


Νὀσος

by TheDarkFlygon



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Pneumonia, Sickfic, Student-Nurse Relationship, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-14
Updated: 2017-11-14
Packaged: 2019-02-02 14:51:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12728706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDarkFlygon/pseuds/TheDarkFlygon
Summary: Sometimes screaming at things doesn't make them work any betterAnd Mr Marquier, eminate Greek teacher, learnt that the hard way.("I write shit in one hour to escape from college", episode 2)





	Νὀσος

**Author's Note:**

> Flygon writes trash oneshots instead of working for college stuff, episode 2  
> I'm sorry Fran I have tons of ideas for sickfics with you but one time you'll get to be the nurse I promise  
> I think I'm gonna write more college!Fran because his younger, even goofier self is really cute
> 
> The title translitterates to "Nosos", which in turn means "illness".  
> Original I know

“Bannaire, stop fooling around and translate that bit already!”

The teacher’s fists slammed on the table, without any response. He had been trying to wake that forsaken idiot for the past minute or so, and he did not have time for this buffoonery. All the other students glared at their slouched-down classmate, who was breathing noisily.

 

“What did I say, Bannaire?! Get your stuff together and translate that sentence!”

The barks from the enraged Mr. Marquier did not seem to do anything to make the situation get anywhere. Eventually, he rolled up his shirt’s sleeves, put his bowtie right again and grabbed the student by the bangs of his hair, causing his glasses to fall from the bridge of his nose onto the table.

 

Only then did the guy finally bothered to stir his eyes open, taking a breath in before coughing as the teacher let him go from his hand. Bannaire almost smashed onto his desk before catching himself with shaking arms, as he coughed until it stopped.

“Can you finally translate the sentence, Bannaire? We’ve been trying to wake you up for ages. You know we don’t have time to spend on sleeping students.”

“Y-yes sir…”

 

He put his glasses back on, looked at the text, rubbed his eyes under his glasses then without his glasses, and blinked a few times.

“I… I… can’t read it…” he stuttered as his face turned into despair.

“Are you fucking kidding me Bannaire?! You’re a khâgne student and you can’t read the Greek alphabet?!” the teacher yelled back, smashing his fist onto the table.

“I’m sorry! It’s all… blurry…”

 

The guy burst into coughing again, shaking as air painfully made it out of his lungs, drowning any other noise in the room, even chatter. The other students were quite amused: their star student, the Grade A brat of the class couldn’t even read a sentence anymore? What a joke!

The teacher’s face softened into mild, then weak rage, until it was washed away and worried. Bannaire’s neighbour reached a hand behind his back, tapping it gently to make the cough go away. His own face distorted.

 

“S-sir, I think he’s not alright at all…” muttered Dorade as he put away his hand.

Mr. Marquier walked up to the student who had just finished coughing once again, looked at him for a few silent seconds, as the young adult looked at him with reddened, puffy eyes accompanied by deep dark rings and foggy, misplaced glasses.

He put a hand on his shoulder, and it immediately rang a bell to the Greek teacher.

“Mr Bannaire, you’re in no condition to attend class at the moment.”

 

It seemed like he wasn’t reacting, as he rubbed his eyes again and squeezed out a few syllables from his wheezing chest. Then a hand appeared over the text.

“Mr Bannaire, what did I just say? You’re in no way to attend class right now.”

He barely looked up.

“B-but… The text…”

“There are no buts. You’re beyond ill.”

 

Mr Marquier let out a rather desperate sigh as he crouched down to the level of his student.

“Please come with me outside, I have something to tell you.”

He watched carefully as the barely stable, coughing young man got up from his chair and to the door, and silently gestured the other Hellenists to pack their classmate’s stuff up.

 

Once he was outside, Richard could only notice how disastrous his student looked like: he was pressed against the wall next to the door, an arm wrapped around his ribs, his left hand in a fist in front of his mouth, sweat pearling down his forehead and temples, the red of his nose and cheeks contrasting with the corpse-like tint his skin had taken.

“S-sorry for that s-sir…” he whispered under his breath.

 

Richard felt himself sigh again.

“I would rather have you take care of your health rather than apologize for disrupting the class. I know you are all busy students, but there’s some things you need to be effective, and not being ill to the point of…”

Red oozed from the fingers of his student.

“You’re getting taken to a hospital right now, François. This isn’t something I can let slide by.”

“N-no… I… I have to stay here…”

 

The teacher scoffed, feeling like he was getting joked with.

“Are you fucking with me right now? You’re probably having the pneumonia of the year. I’m sending you to the infirmary.”

“Please don’t…! I… I have my Latin oral today…”

Another cough wrecked the poor boy’s chest to the point he was bent over and gasping for air between fits, spitting green and red here and there.

 

A pair of stronger arms rolled themselves over his torso, catching him in his fall, as Mr Marquier swiftly recovered the boy’s bag and overcoat. With those on his own back, he put a hand on the covered-in-sweaty-hair forehead, only to grit his teeth.

“You’re burning up! How did you even come to class like this?!”

“Dorm closes at eight…”

“Oh, right, you live in the dorms. Here, let me carry you to the nurse and she’ll take care of everything, okay? You have something to worry about than the text.”

 

Halfway there, François’s voice came up again.

“Sir… What did the sentence mean…?”

“Excuse me?”

“I… I just want to know…”

“It meant ‘a wise man knows his limits and where to stop, as for his own wellbeing and overall life fulfilment’. This definitely isn’t you case yet.”

 

A small laugh escaped the ill student’s mouth, which turned to a small cough. They stood in front of a familiar door to him.

“I don’t want to see you in class until you’re all recovered, you got me? The exam is important, but with such a thing in your lungs, you’ll not be able to do anything. You couldn’t even read text. You take care and rest, and we see each other afterwards, okay?”

“Got it sir…”

 

He knocked, then fell in the nurse’s arms. Her wrinkled face showed surprise, then compassion, as she fully embraced the unconscious boy against her.

“I knew François looked off somehow… Thank you so much for bringing him here. He means well but he’s too stubborn for his own good…”

“You sound like you see him often.”

“He’s a sickly child, so I have to do medical check-ups on him often. For now, I’ll have him lay down and see whether or not I need to call for an ambulance, it seems like he came down with something too grievous for us to treat.”

 

Richard was about to leave, as she started to close the door, but not before he asked a last question.

“Could you keep me updated if you can?”

“Sure thing. I always keep the teaching staff up to date.”

“Thank you very much, Mrs Lajoie.”


End file.
